Tired to the bone
by Alan wannabe
Summary: Alan finds that caring for Denny tires him more than he anticipated


Tired to the Bone

Alan sat on their sofa and heaved a huge sigh of relief. At last the shopping was done for the week and the groceries were put away. He would never allow Denny to participate in the process. Alan felt that Denny's just getting through the day without fainting or collapsing in some way. The dimebolin was helping with his memory, judgement, and reasoning and remembering, but not with his energy or strength or obstinance or perservance. He was in his mid-eighties now, and much of his life had been used up in other causes! As steady and strong as he appeared to be, Denny was taking longer and longer to shower, shave, dress as he felt he should appear. Alan often observed him at his toilet, and inwardly cringed at the length of time necessary for him to complete the simplest of tasks. In truth Alan felt grateful that he even tried any more. Therefore, Alan had taken over the least simple of the tasks that needed to be done. Planning anything was left for Alan to do, as he was as careful over Denny's health and strength. He felt responsible for every move Denny made, and most of the time, Denny did not make decisions of which Alan would not approve. Watching over him was thus less ominous and fear-inspiring for every one around them. Of course, if Denny were insistent about anything he really, really wanted, Alan would think hard before denying him anything. But life was taking a real toll on Alan, although he was helped a great deal by the amount of money afforded him from Denny. Alan was in his 50's now and begging to feel some of the ills of first experiencing what he knew would be a tiresome advancing age himself. For the first time, he was really beginning to be glad not to have the responsibility of a young family over which to watch. Alan was accustomed to never showing up ungroomed or unprepared for any event. But even now, he felt himself less careful of his appearance, his speech, and his demeanor in any event. By the end of each day, he wished he could simply be carried home by a team of elephants, born upstairs, fed his evening meal, and be prepared for bed lovingly as he always did for Denny. He could not remembering being so tired and strung out ever in his life. Sometimes Denny would observe him and asked if his day had been too much. Alan did not even feel up to sex many nights, much less caring for Denny and working on his daytime work in the evening. Each one, he decided, comes to later years differently. He felt sorry for those who had to work all day, and then come home and be available for aging parents later. And even moreso for those with young children. That day of shopping had wiorn him thoroughly. Then he remembered the self-gifting he had done himself (at least it seemed self-gifting at the time). A yung boy of about 8 years old sat at the front of the store, looking worn and old before his time, stooped over a cardboard box. When Alan had looked into the box, he saw a squirming kitten, barely as big as his hand. Tiny news were obviously driving the young boy insane. The boy addressed Alan, saying,"I had 10 this morning, would you like the last one, mister?"

"So that you can at last go home or out to play with your fellows?"

"Yeah, it's not that I didn't love the kittens coming, but not everybody wants to take home an animal for to care for. Dogs are more fun and less trouble to care for."

"I'll bet that almost almost any one would agree with that," Alan replied,slowly shaking his head. "Was the mother your mother's or sister's?"

"Yeah it sure wasn't mine."

Alan bent and took the tiny being into his hand, which it barely filled. Now it was down in the car mewing with all it's might, reminding Alan on each trip to the car that his day was not yet finished. And, beside, Alan thought, Denny would almost certainly enjoy the little ball of fur, all silver and white, to keep him company while Alan was at the Legal Aide clinic. Alan wrapped "Silver" in a small tea towel, and carried it to the sofa where Denny reclined. Look what I got for fee at the market:" Alan stated proudly as if it were a treasure he had located. Mew,mew,mew, went "Silver", squirming in the warm towel. And beginning to smell slightly. "My God!"exclaimed Denny, sitting up. "Is it a boy or a girl?" Denny asked expertly, as if it made a difference.

"The young man seemed to have no opinion, I thought I'd wait until we got home to find out."

Denny sat up straight, with a million problems running through his head. "Alan you seem so burdened lately, and so tired. What made yo think to take on extra responsibility?"

"Perhaps the appearance of the tired little boy sitting there with the last of a ten kitten brood he had worked so hard to give away all day, perhaps to avoid having them all drowned by his dad."

"These things do not take care of themselves, you know. And if it is a girl, we must have it neutered immediately, lest we be sitting at the front door of the market, ourselves, giving away kittens from a cardboard box." and do you know if it is weaned yet or not. If not, it may as well have been drowned!"

"I plan to take it to the vet myself to be checked out, and neutered. And advised on feeding it!"

The stress drained from Denny's face, as he reached for the towel to bounce "Silver" on his ample lap. He began repeating each mew, until Alan's delayed headache began to manifest it self. "Here, Denny, let me hold it on my lap and I'll offer it some milk. Also, I think that in the first weeks of life, momma takes care of baby's excrement, which I have not been careful to do, and now my nose reminds me that I have not been a very good momma."

"Give me that tea towel, and I'll clean it up while you find some milk!"

Alan relented from that task, readily, and went to put some 2% milk in a saucer and warm it in the microwave for 20 seconds. When he returned, the 'mew' ball smelled much less, but was no quieter. Alan lower the kit's nose into the warmed milk and it cleaned it's whiskers rapidly. "Oh, Alan remembered, "I already named it Silver for it's coat color."

"Without even asking me?" Denny grumbled.

"Well, of course I had to talk to it on the way home in the car, so naturally I had to name it on the spot," Alan returned.

"It's not a horse, Alan," scolded Denny. "We really ought to know its gender before we do that, you know."

"I readily acknowledge that, Denny, but I had not even a chance to look, all I could think of was the obviousness of it's coat color."

"I suppose if it had been black, you would have called it Blackie?"

"Unimaginative, I know," answered Alan, with a sigh.

"Denny, I was just so tired, I felt we could decide it together once I got home. I felt that we both needed to decide it together. It is one-half your child, too. That is I hope you like it enough to want it to be yours when I can't be here."

"Of course, you immediately saw the problem and decided it right. I just hope it is a girl, I've always wanted a girl, one way or another. And for all we know it is a girl. Then, why not Silver, I once knew a girl who danced in Vegas who was actually named 'Silver'!"

"Was she anything special to you, because I wouldn't want to feel excluded because she is you girl, like with Shirley."

"Not for more than 2 hours. Anyway!"

"Perfect, unless we come up with something more suitable."

"Otherwise, it can help us remember what color she is, sort of like 'Denny Crane'."

"I can just see you there, laying her out on your hand to see how little she was!"

"I stopped that when I remembered judge Bethany by her height."

"Denny, I never asked you after you mentioned it, do you still have a weak urine stream?"

"I asked my doctor, and he suggested that I lose some weight...Well, you know how that goes..."

"It could be a sign of prostate problems, you know?"

"Yeah, but when your largest concern is mad cow or Alzheimer's, the prostate just doesn't seem all that important!"

"But, Denny, it could be a really big problem!"

"Nothing is ever good enough for you. First, you fight your guts out to save my sanity at the Supreme Court, then you are concerned about my intelligence, no it is my prostate! Why is yours getting weak or something?"

"Yes, weaker by far than when I was younger. Which is not staying with me. And sometimes I get so cranky! This getting older stuff is just not any fun!"

"And it seems that you are always tired. I think we are fighting something that is just not going away! I don't feel we can beat this stuff."

"I guess it is just up to us to enjoy as much as we can!"

"You don't seem to have any interest in sex anymore either!"

"How would you know?" Alan asked somewhat bitterly.

I have been experimenting. When I turn toward you in bed, you have normally slipped your arms around my waist. But in the last few weeks, nothing!You don't even hump my leg in the night anymore!

"I wasn't aware that I ever did!" Alan retorted, sourly.

"Since we were married and even before, you never remember doing that?" Denny fumed. "Leading me on like that?"

Denny recoiled and became indignant! "Ok, Ok, I won't push it. I just thought more of your advances than that! I'm sorry we are being concerned about our prostates, I forgot."

"Next time, you'r going to have to clue me in a little bit better than that! Maybe I wouldn't have been so neutral to sexual advances if I had known there were any around!"

Denny actually blushed and lowered his eyes. "I was actually swallowing all that sexually ambiguous stuff you were putting out!"

"Have you never heard of bisexuality, Denny!"

"Of course, but I always felt that was just for people who couldn't make up their minds. Isn't it?"

"No, lover, it is for people who are equally comfortable with either sex."

"Equally comfortable with either sex?"

"Yes, love, we both know I am comfortable with many women."

"So that means you might also be comfortable with my sex? Are you saying that I might have some responsibility for your decline of interest in sex?"

"Oh, my goodness, we hadn't thought of that, had we?"

"I hadn't, that is for sure!"

"C'mon, Denny, if not you, who should be my primary sex interest?"

Denny shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, and he hesitated to reply.

"I really don't know how to answer that...aren't you doing yourself still ? I know I am!"

"Yeah, but it is hard to get excited about a big evening with yourself, don't you think?"

Denny nodded reluctantly, and stroked the kitten he now held in both hands. "How do you think it would to rub Silver up and down your shaft?"

Alan looked sickened, and asked, "Denny, don't you think there is something like beastiality in that?"

"Okay, maybe, but it is definitely not gay! Silver is a girl, for crying out loud!"

"And she's is just an underage kitten!"

"Not too young to be spayed, at least!"

Alan groaned and commented that at times he could not understand Denny. "At times you seem so sensitive to others and even despised minorities, but you just cannot get past two men sleeping with each other, just as we do!"

"Not just as we do. We do not commit sodomy or other abominable things! And if you feel it for me, at least you have the kindness not to mention it, dear friend!"

Alan pounded on either side of his head in frustration [Okay, he said to himself, I knew he was this way when I married him. I've made my own bed, now I must lie in it. Then he reminded himself of how much he gave up for Denny, and how much he still loved him, and realized that his feelings didn't really matter so much!] Then, Denny reached out and took him in a great bear hug and kissed his cheek, and all felt right again! If this was to be the way life was to be, so be it!


End file.
